Royai: Roy's Key
by LopezV97
Summary: Riza Hawkeye helps Rebecca understand what it's like to be in depression after Roy Mustang attempted to take his own life. IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or objects; they belong to Fullmetal Alchemist. I do own my idea.**

 **Author's Note: Long time no see, everybody! I apologize for the lack of updates for Last Order, I'm actually writing this note to tell you my situation concerning that as well. I'm sorry to say that since June I've been suffering from depression (one of my friends knows this already, and if you read this, just know that I'm extremely grateful for your support). It's been difficult for me to do the things I typically enjoy.**

 **I've been doing a little better, but I decided to write this story for those unfortunate enough to be experiencing depression as well. I want people to understand what this feels like...and that it's not just an overreaction. You would not believe how many times I've been told that my depression was a result of overreaction. I don't ask for pity. I hope you like this multi-chapter story and that it helps you as much as it helps me. Thank you!**

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Against all odds –and his wishes- Roy Mustang was still alive. He thought the regaining of his hearing meant he'd made it to heaven or hell, but the imperfections of echoes and ringing in his ear told him he was in this ugly world. His eyes refused to open, medical tape clamping his lids shut and preventing his knowledge of the time of day. Pain shot through his right leg, making him want to cringe but none of his muscles responded. Only his nerves could tell him he was as tender as a steak at Madame Christmas's shop.

Christmas! Oh damn, what would she think of her son when she found out of his suicide attempt? She would have received the news from Riza, who was always the first to know everything. Did Riza know yet? If he's been here for over a day, then Roy was sure they knew.

The soft sound of the rattling blinds at the window steered his thoughts to curiosity. It was almost like a military tank was storming through the city below. Someone growled, grabbed something near Roy, and sent it flying across the room at the source of the vibration. The object struck –a book, based on the way the pages fluttered- and caused the source to grunt as if he'd just been squeezed like a squeaker toy.

"What the hell, Havoc?" Breda shouted.

"Stop snoring! Lieutenant Hawkeye is trying to get some sleep," Havoc said back. "Maybe you should head to concussion unit? I'm sure they'll need your help in there to keep the people awake."

The click of the door sounded on Roy's left, and the heavy steps of a man made their way to the foot of the bed. "Why don't you all go to the concussion unit?" Rebecca said, the source of the heavy steps. "I heard you guys from down the hall."

"It's alright, everyone, I wasn't asleep anyway," Riza said. Roy's ears perked up when he found her voice was coming from his left. She stirred in her seat, the plastic over the cushion protesting against her weight. "The nurse came in an hour ago to check up on Roy, so I wanted to stay up to talk to her."

Rebecca huffed and made her way to Riza. "I brought him some flowers," Rebecca said.

"Thank you, I'm sure he'll love them," Riza said. Roy smelled Riza's sweet candy perfume as she leaned over him to prop the flowers at his opposite side. Maes once said Roy's scent of cologne and smoke rubbed off on her, from all those hours they spent together. What a shame to have even a trace of Roy Mustang on anything.

"So when did you get to the city?" Breda asked.

"About an hour ago," said Rebecca. "I wanted to come when…this…happened a week ago, but my mom really needed the help getting around her house."

"Don't worry about it. You're here, and that's all that matters," Riza said.

There was a couple of throats clearing and whispering between Rebecca and Havoc –he must've asked her if she unpacked her belongings in his apartment yet.

"Um, Riza?" Rebecca said. Riza turned in her seat beside Roy. "If you don't want to answer, it's alright, but- "

"You want to know how he tried to kill himself?" Riza finished, in her blunt and calm way that only she could pull off.

"Yeah."

"He ran off after a meeting with my grandfather –I think I know why- the fire chief told me he must've set the warehouse on fire and waited for it to collapse on him. Thank goodness it was abandoned, or else it would've made Roy feel guilty."

"What did Grumman say to make him go do something like that?" Havoc asked.

Riza sighed. "My grandfather said he was leaving his position to General Armstrong instead of Roy, as he'd promised. I suppose Roy felt angry with him."

Roy wanted to curl away in a box somewhere, where no one could find him or watch him as he lay motionless at the focal point of the room. He was angry with Grumman, yes, but he'd also felt guilt over how many people he'd let down. He thought of the men and women who risked their lives for his sake.

Elicia Hughes would have a father to hold if it weren't for Roy Mustang.

"Will he be okay?" Rebecca asked.

"I hope so," Riza said, her voice made Roy notice the annoying buzz of machines surrounding him and the tube blowing oxygen up his nostrils.

A moment of silence went by, until someone suddenly began patting their stomach.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I could use a nice coffee and some cookies," said Falman.

"I'll go with you," said Fuery. Wow, Roy hadn't heard a peep from them.

"We're in," Breda and Havoc said in unison. Havoc added, "I've got to shit a load off anyway."

Rebecca groaned. "And now you won't be getting _shit_ in bed tonight either."

"Yikes," muttered Havoc. "You ladies want anything?"

"I think I'll stay," Riza said.

"Come on, Riza, go get some fresh air," Rebecca said. "I'll keep an eye on him."

Riza thought about the offer. "Okay, I'll be back in a few minutes. If anything happens, we'll be in the cafeteria at the end of the hall."

Roy listened to the stampede of bodies as they cluttered out of the room. A nurse came in hauling a cart of all the medical supplies, she greeted Rebecca as Mrs. Mustang. Roy wanted to shiver despite the burns extending nearly to his bones. Rebecca breathed out in relief when the nurse rolled out, then pulled a seat from the corner of the room to Roy's right side.

Roy felt the tension burning hotter than his own alchemy. He nearly had a heart attack when he felt the cool calloused skin of Rebecca's hand on his forearm. Rebecca huffed again and let her free hand pound against the mattress. The sheets beneath him crinkled as she balled her hand into a fist.

"Damn you, Roy…" Rebecca muttered. "Damn you! How could you do this? I swear, if Riza hadn't wanted you alive so badly, I would do the honor of killing you for being so stupid and selfish. How can you fucking forget what Jean did for you? He lost his ability to _walk._ "

Roy listened, silently agreeing to everything. He actually wished she would kill him.

"And he talks about it like he'd do it all over again just for an idiot like you. Why couldn't you face the reality of not becoming the fuerher, and be happy with what you had? We would've accepted you…as long as you tried…but you…" Roy heard the door click open just as Rebecca said her last words, "You're a fucking coward."

"A coward?" Riza said. "Roy is not a coward!"

Rebecca sprang up from her seat, her mouth sputtering apologies like a waterfall.

"What gives you the right to call him that, Rebecca?" Riza asked, her tone leaking fury. "You can't imagine what he must be feeling right now! He needs your support not lectures, and I would've expected you of all people could do that for him after you've seen what happened to me."

"What do you mean _what happened to you_?" Rebecca asked, thinking. "Roy has a lot of good things in his life, so why does he deserve to feel the way you did?"

"Roy's in depression, Rebecca. And it doesn't matter whether you're at the top of the pyramid or the bottom. All you have to know is that he's weak," Riza said. "You must not have learned to understand if you're calling him a coward."

"I _do_ understand."

"No, you don't," Riza said, firmly.

Rebecca slumped into her chair beside Roy, as Riza made her way to Roy's left. "Riza, I'm sorry," Rebecca said. Riza said nothing. " _Fine_ …Then remind me, so I can understand. _Please._ "

Silence.

Finally, Riza sighed. Roy imagined her head bowed and eyes closed the way she did when she was frustrated. Riza started, "It was after Ishval…"

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 **AN: Excuse the cheesiness, I'm just trying to get my thoughts on paper. I will try to finish this before New Year's. Happy Holidays!**

 **Please follow/favorite/review if you have the time. They mean the world to me.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or objects; they belong to Fullmetal Alchemist. I do own my idea.**

 **Author's Note: Sorry for my delay, this is a difficult subject to write. I almost forgot to write out Riza's back story that led to depression, it is slightly different to what most FMA fans hear about her character. Please excuse the heavy reference to the religion on this chapter as well, I do not intend to spread my own beliefs, I just needed it to work with the rest of the story.**

 **I also wanted to clarify that this and next chapter will be written in first person (Riza's perspective). Rebecca's voice will be in BOLD, and Roy's thoughts will be in _ITALICS._**

 **Thank you.**

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It was after Ishval…when I first started having dark thoughts. It's difficult to put a single word down for what exactly led me to them, but I'll try to explain the best I can and it starts with my childhood.

My mother passed away when I was very young, so I have no recollection of her whatsoever -and as most people know, I grew up with my father, who was solely driven by his hunger for alchemy. I was practically an orphan. He was so fixated on his work that he barely remembered to provide me with the necessities for "proper health". He made me sick, and had I remained a hermit as he was then I wouldn't have made it as far in my life as I did.

To avoid his path, I kept myself busy near the church in the village. I planted fruit trees. I swept the walkway. I left baskets of pastries at the doorstep. In the winter, I chopped wood for the church chimney, and that's when I met a nun named Evelyn -I believe I was around eleven. She welcomed me inside church for mass, we prayed, and they thanked me for my help over a meal. I genuinely enjoyed their company, so I made sure to join their weekly mass. For years, their good graces seemed to drain the hate and frustration I held toward my father. Evelyn said that every being in this world was gifted life for a purpose. So I thought that maybe being with them was my purpose, or that I was destined to become a nun. I felt at peace. No longer worried about my future…that is until Roy came along.

 _Until I came along?_

I had just finished picking zucchinis for the bread I planned on bringing to church, and came home to find my home completely lit from the inside. It was the strangest thing to see, almost the same reaction I had when I heard of the homunculi. My father never had parties, so I needed to check if he'd gone crazy and was spooked of a ghost of some sort. But instead I found Roy and Madame Christmas there with a small pack of suit cases, speaking to my father as if negotiating.

 _I remember, Riza. You came in with dirt smudged on your knees and with your cheeks rosy from the summer heat. It was odd to see such an innocent girl come from a man like Master Hawkeye. Christmas traded three free years at her brothel for my schooling._

I have no clue as to what they were negotiating -my father seemed perfectly content, but what I do know is the result of it. Roy was granted permission to stay with us as long as he needed to learn alchemy. Over time, I stopped visiting the sisters at the church so I could keep the house clean for Roy.

 **Are you saying he was a burden?**

No, of course not. He was a blessing. You see, I felt sorry for him at the time we first met. Roy was nervous -which is hard to believe when you look at the way he is now- and became paranoid over cleaning after himself to the point where he lost track of studying. I took responsibility over the chores in hopes to get him out of our home faster.

 _You wanted me out?_

And again, is wasn't because I disliked him. I just hoped he didn't have to spend a lifetime with my father as I did. So through the years I spent near him, we became good friends and eventually I fell in love with him. God knows if he loved me too...but I'll skip the reasons for that particular topic. I later missed the woman of the church and went to visit them after my father died and I showed Roy my ba-

 _You showed me the secrets to flame alchemy that Master Hawkeye tattooed on your back._

 **Your what, Riza?**

I showed him a piece of myself that I had never shown anyone else.

 **Oh, so you guys had, um, sex?**

Hmm, yes. I suppose we did.

 **Huh?**

Moving on. Anyway, after Roy and I did that, he left the next morning while I slept. It finally made me understand how other people felt when their own partners left them. I felt used and unworthy. I sought Evelyn's help that same afternoon, but it turned out she died the month before. I cried the entire night by her bedroom, wishing I could see her again. I even wished that I'd never met Roy, so I could've spent those days with her instead.

The Sunday mass after that, the priest asked me to attend for a special speech he was going to give. He said it was something that could help me, but he didn't tell me if was _for_ me. The entire church made a prayer for me and the grief I held over Evelyn's death. When I stood at the front, I was infuriated, but then as I stared back into the eyes of all the people of the church, I realized I was among friends. It was therapeutic.

The priest broke down the meaning of my grief, I felt guilty for leaving my friends -my purpose- at the church for someone who used me merely to get what he wanted.

 **Roy, did that to you?**

Just listen, Rebecca.

 _But I did treat you terribly, Riza! No matter how much I loved you, there was no excuse to leave you when you were at your most vulnerable. I should I have been there._

The priest said that maybe my purpose wasn't with the church, God assigned purposes for people who needed to share what they were plentiful of. I had lot of love to give because I was stuck in a world of radiating hate towards my father. Roy was the one who needed my love, he's my purpose.

After that realization, I joined the sniper group in the military to guarantee myself a position at the Ishvalan war so I could meet with Roy. In the process, though, I had no idea I'd be expected to kill so many. I was naïve, and believed I could simply run out of the desert with Roy by my side.

I stopped counting when after I reached the two hundred kill mark. I trained myself by numbing my feeling when it came to shooting; at the center, my heart had gone to stone. The general in charge during the war promoted me, so I began questioning my very existence. Why was I being rewarded for committing sins against God?

The war ended months afterward, so we were sent back East City -where Roy and I decided to stick together until we got settled in our own apartments. We were both disgusted by our own skin…we relied on each other to make ourselves feel better…

 _That was our REAL first time that we made love. I cherished every moment._

Roy was assigned a position in East Headquarters, and in turn let me take the job as his bodyguard. We had moved to separate parts of the city, so it became nearly impossible to see Roy when we weren't working. I isolated myself. I went through daily tasks like a zombie, and prayed for death.

It may not sound extreme to you, but my first and only attempt at suicide occurred in September of that year. I was driving one of the HQ cars home from the market, and headed out of town towards the countryside. I wanted to get away from my thoughts, but it was as if they kept chasing me. I started speeding in the car, and swore to myself that I wouldn't let go of the gas until I struck something.

 **Riza….**

I slammed on the brakes when I saw a dog in the middle of the road. That dog didn't deserve to die because of me. I pulled out my gun from my purse and held it to my head. I almost pulled the trigger, but stopped that too when I saw myself in the reflection of the window. Somehow the dog and the gun made a connection for me. I realized I wasn't thinking about my purpose -Roy- and I needed to stay a dog of the military for him. To protect him until he reached his goal.

I'm slightly glad that I had that experience then, because it gives me the wisdom to help Roy. And I want people to understand how it feels, so they can help him too. Now imagine this…

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 **AN: I'm not sure when I'll post the next chapter, but I'll write it out soon. The next chapter should be more interesting.**

 **Please follow/favorite/review if you have the time. They mean the world to me.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I apologize for my lack of updating. I've been unable to write decently, so I'm just setting it aside and working on getting better. I have started seeing a psychiatrist.**

 **Please excuse my overuse of words, I feel like I've been grinded down to a small list of vocabulary. This chapter was edited only a little, because if I went into my intense editor mode I would've never written it. This comes from the heart, I hope it helps.** **Italicized = Rebecca's voice**

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Now imagine this…

As you stir in your sleep -the best sleep of your life- the bare section of your arm comes in contact with a cold, rough surface. You open your eyes to see what that said surface is, so you can return to the happy place in your dreams. However, your eyes are blinded within a stark, black room, so you're left with no choice but to adjust to the problem. You shiver from its chill. Minutes pass and you barely distinguish the silhouette of a barred window and the light pouring through it, but by then you realize you're too bothered to return to your deep sleep. You've grown immune to it. You've learned to live with the cold, rough surface that broke your happiness.

So you wallow in discomfort…just waiting for the sunlight to leave or for your body to grow tired.

That is only the beginning.

You find the strength to stand up and try to find a different space where you can sleep, but your surrounded by harsh gray brick and metal. Your loved ones are on the other side of the barred window, laughing like children and cooking meals over a card game. You ask yourself, "Wasn't I with them before I woke up?"

Yes, you were, and that's the strange thing…Depression can appear even from the best moments. And it happens faster than a snap of your fingers.

You want to scream out for their help, but clamp your hands over your mouth in fear that they may become trapped like you. So you simply stare. You cry.

"What's wrong," your friend asks when they finally see you. They bend down to speak to you, their fingers wrap around the bars, prepared to rip them apart if need be.

"I don't know," is all you manage to say.

"How did you get in there?"

Again, you stare blankly at them. Your fear reemerges. You can't show them or they'll be caught too. You shake your head.

They furrow their brows at you, confused. They sigh. "Weren't you just in the middle of tell a joke before you got in there? What happened?"

"I just realized that I was the happiest I ever been in that moment," is what you want to say. "And with that I also realized that after this, everything will go downhill. Why live after that?"

You friend walks away, returning to the card game because you refuse to talk. You feel betrayed. Aren't they supposed to bail you out? Anger burns at the pit of your stomach.

Let's move forward a few months. You anger has turned to self-hatred…because you've realized that your imprisonment is your own doing. Somehow you allowed your hands and feet to be restrained by chains. You peek through the windows -using the little range of movement you have- and see your family flying a kite.

Your friend motions at you with their head. "She's still there?"

Your husband looks over his shoulder, frowning. "I wonder if she'll ever get better. I don't know what else to do."

You laugh to yourself, a foreign feeling on your lips. You've been wondering the same exact thing. That dream was the best thing that happened to you, and you wonder if sleeping for good will at least end the pain.

You're tired of waiting for the prison guard to let you out, and you loved ones have already tried to break you free. So you only have you own weakened mind to rely on.

Before you were in this hell hole, you would've had dozens of ways to get out, but now your mind has a tunneling train of thought. You manage just one option. Can you guess what it is, Rebecca?

… _Suicide_.

Yes. That's what Roy was reduced to.

 _Please don't cry, Riza._

Forgive me….Well, moving on…After days of considering and planning your supposed last option, your family decides to speak to you one last time through the window.

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 **Please Review if you have the time, I appreciate them greatly!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or objects; they belong to Fullmetal Alchemist. I do own my idea.**

 **AN: Sorry if there are any mistakes I missed. Enjoy.**

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"After days of considering and planning your supposed last option, your family decides to speak to you one last time through the window," Riza said. "They don't know that it's the last time, so some of them aren't really sensitive to your situation."

Roy breathed deeper at the sound of her calm, the way her words formed naturally as if she were a natural healer, and never the infamous sniper from Ishval. She continued, "You're ready to turn your back to them and close your eyes, because your family is tired of worrying. They will never stop worrying until it's over…but you sit up before allowing yourself to even yawn. You ask yourself, 'If I sleep, will they end up in this place too?' You nod. 'They will, because they will have spent so many days and nights grieving over my happy spirit that they will wonder if things will ever get better.'"

"So what you're saying is," Rebecca said, gathering her thoughts. "-is that sometimes you have to face the worst, to see the best?"

Roy could almost feel Riza's single, yet firm nod through the air. "It's simple, but extremely difficult to accomplish. You have to find that last bit of strength to help you get out. You have to find your key, which varies from person to person," she said. "In Ishval, I was a monster…and now…after I've seen how my connections to said event made a difference in my life I realized that my key was Roy. I didn't want him fighting the battle alone in the military, so I fought too."

Rebecca gave a soft hum, and Roy finally didn't feel any scrutiny coming from her gaze. "I'm sorry, Riza, and thank you for telling me," Rebecca said. A pair of familiar hands rested on his arms, they were calloused and warm, so it must have been Riza. Then fresh hands gingerly grabbed his other arm: Rebecca. "And Roy, if you can hear me, I hope you can forgive me for…-for what I said earlier."

He tried to squeeze her hand, but his muscles refused to obey his command.

"You know," Rebecca said, pulling her hands away. "I remember when you first told me about Roy's plans about becoming Fuhrer."

Riza gave a light, bitter laugh. "Yes, you called him selfish, back then as well."

"Because I worried that he would actually go through with making the nation democratic, and both of you would face the firing squad for your actions in Ishval. And come to think of it, that would have been the same fate. Suicide."

"That _is_ strange to think about."

The force of Rebecca's eyes returned to Roy. "Maybe Grumman selecting General Armstrong was a much better replacement than Roy, if that's what it meant. God must've been looking out for him."

"No, I think that maybe God wanted him to learn from all this pain," Riza said. "Have you ever noticed how the good ones seem to leave the world first? Like Brigadier General Hughes. Well, maybe it's God taking them away because they've learned everything there is to learn about happiness…or like I said before, 'they found their key.'"

"Hmm, yeah, so Roy has yet to find his." Rebecca's voice burst into a scold. "You had damn well better be there to help him find it!"

Riza laughed. "Of course, I will."

"Good, now let's go get lunch, I'm sure he'll be okay as long as you're not starving."

Roy heard the shuffle of chairs as they lifted themselves and stretched. Riza had helped him understand, and he didn't want her to leave just yet. He had to tell her what had been on his mind his entire career. He had too.

His throat itched and stretched as he took an intake of breath. He wheezed.

"Wait a minute, he's waking up," Rebecca said.

He tried again, his skin burning. "K-key…."

"What?" Riza yelped.

"Riza…is…" Roy breathed. "…my key…"

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 **AN: This story has helped me understand myself better lately, and I feel happier since I started writing this chapter. Thank you all for reading, favoriting (Office says that's not a word, but whatever), following, and reviewing my stories: I see all of them and place them in a special email folder to motivate me when I need it. It's wonderful to know that I have such kind people giving time to read my work.**

 **And to those of you who are struggling with depression, I hope that you stay strong and seek help. A quote from one of my favorite songs: "** **If things are as bad as they can be  
You can be sure there'll be a brighter tomorrow." -Shaggy, Keepin' it Real. Take care, my friends.**


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